


Life Trifles

by serapheim



Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ, Real Person Fiction
Genre: After concert, Agression, Burnt out, Celebrities, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Concerts, Cooking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhastion, Fights, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Morning After, Musicians, Pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serapheim/pseuds/serapheim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were tense, wired, always expected to be on schedule, expected to operate by the book, pushed to meet the deadlines; their whole life turned into a blurring vertigo of places, they never remembered, and faces, they easily forgot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Trifles

Just over a year ago, when they were still relatively new to the showbiz scene and just began giving really big concerts, they all were always in high spirits after a gig. They would hurry backstage, adrenaline high and giddy, their hair and clothes damp with sweat. They all would keep smiling, hugging each other and other crew members, their eyes bright, feeling the happiest at that moment.   
  
  
They would feel as if the concert ended too quickly, as if they could probably work through another one. They would keep singing on their way back to the hotel, never minding the sore vocal chords. They felt as if they could do everything, anything, as if they were kings of the whole universe.   
  
  
As if the world was theirs.   
  
  
But the illusion was quickly gone. It disappeared along with the feeling of euphoria, so characteristic for their early days. It seemed as if they were tiring quicker, getting annoyed at each other and fighting over stupid little things - trifles that they wouldn’t have paid any attention to earlier.   
  
The usual hugging became more of a habit and less the sign of affection. The make-up and dressing, which used to be an amusing experience, soon was regarded as irritating necessity. The feeling of companionship, which kept them close to each other and allowed casual touches, seemed suffocating now.   
  
Instead of goofing around like a bunch of schoolboys after a concert, these days they would quickly split, each of them heading their own way, seeking suddenly so much needed solitude.   
  
They were tense, wired, always expected to be on schedule, expected to operate by the book, pushed to meet the deadlines; their whole life turned into a blurring vertigo of places, they never remembered, and faces, they easily forgot.   
  
  
They were burning out, falling down after climbing on top so fast, losing interest in what just a little time ago seemed to be their only dream in life.   
  
  
“Move.”   
  
Jaejoong sighed and opened his eyes. Right in front of him stood Yunho, his face a mask of annoyance.   
  
“What?” Jaejoong blinked at him tiredly, watching a drop of sweat roll down their leader’s temple, cross his cheek and disappear under the edge of his jaw.   
  
“Move. Now,” hissed the other again through his clenched teeth.   
  
The elder boy felt the irritation rise in his chest as well, unused to being addressed so rudely.   
  
“Why?” he asked, the edges of his mouth dropping in distress.   
  
“You are sitting on my chair!”  
  
Turning and looking at the mirror behind his back, Jaejoong could see Yunho’s name and a small star on the back of the canvas chair, he was currently sprawled on.   
  
Still not getting what was the big deal about it, the elder boy turned to Yunho and said casually, “Yeah. So what?”  
  
He didn’t expect to be grabbed by the collar of his white t-shirt and almost physically pulled up, the words yelled right into his face: “Get the fuck out of my chair!”  
  
Trying to twist out from the leader’s hands, Jaejoong yelled back at him, losing his temper at last: “Can’t you use some other fucking chair?! I am tired! And I am not standing up!”   
  
“Chill out, guys,” said Yoochun calmly. He was standing nearby with a bottle of water in his hand uncapped and half empty already. The others were watching two struggling boys silently with some kind of exhaustion stupor.   
  
“C’mon, Yunho,” the usually cheerful boy, looked giddy with exhaustion, the tension hardening the lines of his cheekbones and jaw. “There’s plenty of chairs there,” said Yoochun, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of other chairs. He was tired and the stupid fight was getting on his nerves.   
  
  
It ended quickly though, Jaejoong landing on the floor with a flat thud. For a brief second, Yunho stood over the fallen boy and much desired chair, panting, his chest rising and falling, and then he stormed out of the changing room.   
  
  
“What’s wrong with you, guys?” asked Changmin, puzzled, and turned back to his task of removing his make-up. And Yoochun watched the way the elder boy was biting his lips, as if trying hard not to cry, and thought that maybe neither Jaejoong nor Yunho knew the answer to that question. But there was one thing he knew for sure – it wouldn’t be Yunho’s bed, Jaejoong would crawl into that night.   
  
\----------------   
  
The ragged breathing was escaping his parted lips, the sweat tasted sour on the flushed skin, the vulgar sound of flesh hitting flesh rang loud in his ears. Two breathes hitched simultaneously, in some kind of twisted harmony, as their bodies reached the climax.   
  
  
The world was still spinning before his eyes, and the buzzing in his ears seemed to refuse to fade, when Yoochun suddenly felt the body in his arms struggle free.   
  
  
“What is it?” he asked, reluctant to be brought back to reality so quickly. Receiving no reply, he gripped the moving limbs tighter and asked again: “What’s wrong, Jae?”   
  
For a moment the elder boy was still, then suddenly he started thrashing with renewed force.   
“What the…”   
  
After a period of brief struggling, Yoochun managed to pin the cocoon of sheets and lithe body to bed, the elder boy’s arms captured between them. Jaejoong turned his face away from him, so the other could only see part of Jaejoong’s face, mostly jaw and lips, and the tousled mane of hair.   
  
The bundle beneath him trembled, sending the tiny waves of pleasure through Yoochun, his skin still remembering the feel of the other boy’s body under his. He nipped on Jaejoong’s jaw, whispering against his skin: “Tell me, what’s wrong.”   
  
  
The breathing was coming out in uneven gasps, but the boy under him kept silence, only his body betraying him a little: teeny shivers were rippling through his frame. Frowning Yoochun wound out one of his hands free and reached out to brush the hair from Jaejoong’s face. The glittering eyes and streaks of tears on the boy’s cheeks confirmed his suspicions.   
  
  
Yoochun freed his other hand and cupped boy’s face, wiping away the tears gently. “What’s wrong, Jae? Talk to me,” he whispered, his lips almost touching the other boy’s. The elder boy sniffled, closing his eyes, and after a moment of hesitation a single word, a name, was breathed out.   
  
  
“Yunho.”   
  
  
Almost instantly he was wrapped into a warm embrace, and in the protective circle of Yoochun’s arms the boy poured out all his sorrows, his insecurities and pains. A gentle hand was petting his hair, and a familiar husky voice chanted: “Forget him. Forget it all.”   
  
  
Later a mutual pact was made, signed with the mingled breaths and biting kisses. As two slender bodies writhed in waves of pleasure, it was hard to say, who was being held and who was doing the holding. The tears and sweat mingled shamelessly.   
  
  
\----------------   
  
  
“A little lovin’ from the oven*,” singsonged Jae, putting a plate with pancakes before Yoochun. He smiled slyly, stealing a quick kiss from the other boy. His elbows on the table, he leaned close to Yoochun, watching him take first bite.  
  
“Like it?”, he asked, his eyes bright with mirth.   
  
Lips curving in a smile, Yoochun leaned to steal yet another quick kiss.   
“I like you,” he said.   
  
  
They seemed oblivious to everything and everyone around them, so engrossed in each other. They seemed not to notice the shocked expressions of Chagmin and Jinsu, and the way Yunho’s face darkened, when he saw Jaejoong scoop some cream with his finger and bring it to the other’s lips. Or the way Yoochun sucked at the elder boy’s finger, and the messy kiss that followed it.   
  
And maybe they didn’t hear or pretended not to hear a slam of the front door, when Yunho stormed out of the house.   
  
  
Two boys kept kissing, in spite of all prejudices and “do not”s, in-spite of all odds; they kissed while people around them walked, talked, lived; they kept kissing mostly because they shouldn’t have, partly because they mustn’t have and maybe a bit because they simply could.   
  
  
If they couldn’t be happy, they could always pretend.   
  
  
//  
  
written: August 21, 2005  
edited: March 26, 2013

**Author's Note:**

> “A little lovin’ from the oven” is a quote taken from the movie “Sweet November”. I love Brandon/Brandy XD 
> 
> Originally written for Autumn Contest Yunho at LJ.


End file.
